Conversation
by Melchy
Summary: The Ghost and Mrs. Muir get to know one another a little better


Title: Conversation.  
Timeline: First Season after A Relative Situation  
Rating : G  
Thanks to Susan and Mark  
  
The ocean after the storm was still wild and furious and hit the shore with an abandon. It foamed around the rocks and hit the sand with a penetrating force. Carolyn Muir walked along the edge of this spectacular show, her eyes on the far horizon and her mind going in as many directions as the water when it hit the beach.  
  
It had stormed for the last two days, high winds that bent the trees low and toppled over some of the less sturdy ones. The house had withstood the challenge, with only a few shingles disappearing into the outer regions. Claymore had promised he'd be up tomorrow to repair them so Carolyn figured first of next week he'd show up. This was the first chance she'd felt it was safe to leave the house and was thankful for the feel of the wind in her face and the sound of the surf in her ears. The kids had gone back to school also and they seemed happy to go for once. Not that they hadn't had a good time being in the house together.  
  
The first day there had not been electricity and they survived using candles and the fireplace. It was very cozy and reminded Carolyn of the books she read as a child of families gathered around the fireplace, where the mother sewed and the father read and the children did their homework or other accomplishments.  
  
More than once she had looked for the Captain to join them in their time but he seemed to prefer being alone in his domain of the wheelhouse. Why she couldn't imagine but she didn't press him. One thing she had learned about Captain Gregg was the fact that he did what he wanted when he wanted and there really didn't need to be a reason for it. "Good afternoon Mrs. Muir" his voice said close by her ear. She jumped slightly but smiled warmly when she saw the specter close by her side.  
  
"Good afternoon Captain Gregg, beautiful day isn't it?"  
  
"It is indeed. Nice to get out after the storm."  
  
"Yes, it is. I have to admit I was catching cabin fever."  
  
"As was I, Madam," he remarked.  
  
"Really? I guess I thought a ghost could go out in anything he wanted."  
  
"Not unless he's a dunderhead," his voice was light.  
  
"I thought perhaps you might join us," she ventured. "We were having a good time and I just thought," she didn't finish her statement.  
  
"I didn't want to intrude on your time Madam. It seems to be so rare when you and the children actually have time to spend with no other concerns. I do have to admit I like watching you with your children, it gives me fond memories."  
  
"Really?" she had a curious look in her eyes.  
  
"I think I opened a can of worms with that statement. I should have thought I was talking to a woman."  
  
"I thought you were going to say remembered there for a minute."  
  
"My dear, I can never forgot that you are a woman."  
  
Her face turned red at his words and she turned away from him pretending to look up the shore. When he said such things she couldn't stop her heart from picking up speed or make that flip-flop in her stomach go away. She hadn't felt those sensations in such a long time and to think he was only a ghost.  
  
"Would I be too personal if I asked what kind of memories?" she moved on, trying not to dwell on the way his nearness was making her feel. What was it about today that was making her more aware of his presence? It wasn't just today if she were going to be truthful with her self, it was lately. For the past few weeks she had been more aware of his presence, of the way she felt when he was near, and the way she felt when he was not near.  
  
It had been right about the time her in-laws had been to Gull Cottage for a visit. Her father in law had come for the express purpose of persuading her to pack up everything and return to Philadelphia with them. He had been so sure of himself, Jonathan had been enrolled in school already. That night that Ralph Muir had laid his bombshell, she had found herself needing to walk through the foggy night air. The Captain had joined her and together they had discussed the situation. Something he said had stayed with her. He had told her that he felt that they, her and the children, were his family.  
  
"No, not at all. I was simply referring to the time when I was a small child and my mother would read to me at night. She had a calming pleasant voice and could make any danger seem far away," he ended with a hint of sadness.  
  
"Did she, um, did she, were you raised by her?" pressing her luck a little further.  
  
"No, sadly. She died when I was about Jonathan's age. I can still see her on those nights, sitting in the chair by the fireplace, the light dancing on her red hair. She would hold me on her lap and read the most wonderful stories of the most fascinating places," his face was soft at the memory. "I still miss her.  
  
" "Who took care of you after she died?" hoping he would continue to talk of his past.  
  
"My father and my grandfather. They raised me the best they knew how. My father was a fisherman and worked odd hours so I seldom saw him. Most of what I learned from life was what my grandfather taught me. He had been steward for several British ships and he filled my head with his sea adventures. It did not matter that most of them had actually happened to other people, I devoured them just the same. I would follow him around the house, getting in his way no doubt but I did not want to miss anything adventurous he might do. And he never once became annoyed with me. He died when I was 14, and my father was planning to remarry so I ran away to sea, leaving my father a note to tell him I'd be back when I was man."  
  
"Did you ever see him again?" she stopped walking and turned to face him. How could anyone's eyes be so blue?  
  
"I saw him on several occasions. I managed to return home every two to three years and always found time to spend with him. I admired my father greatly, I just did not know him well. He came with me the day I purchased the land that Gull Cottage stands on. He died shortly afterward. His wife continued to live in Schooner Bay for several more years until she married a minister from Keystone and moved there. I never saw her after that. She never cared for me, I was to rough and uncouth to be around her children. I might corrupt them," he said the last as though at one time it bothered him but now it only amused him.  
  
"So your father had more children?" she asked. "You never mentioned that before."  
  
"I've never mentioned a great many things M'dear. But yes come to think of it he and Margaret had two children, both girls. I remember they had long brown curls and she dressed them alike. I cannot recall if they were twins or not but they were close in age. Their names were..." she could see him concentrating, pulling the names out long forgotten corners of his mind. "Charlotte and Cassandra, yes that's right. Charlotte and Cassandra. I do not know what happened to them. I imagine they married."  
  
"Why didn't you ever find out? Weren't you curious?"  
  
"Obviously you are," he teased her. "I was told firmly by Margaret that I was no longer welcomed in her home after my father's death and I so I never returned. I did see one of the girls in Keystone several years later, she was quite grownup and very pretty but she didn't recognize me."  
  
She could tell he was neither insulted or angry at the memory and had just taken it as part of life. "But wasn't the house she lived in here, before her second marriage, yours? How could she kick you out of it?"  
  
"It was mine, but I was too interested in building and maintain Gull Cottage. After I had removed the things that I wanted from the house, despite her protests, I signed the house over to her and left it with her."  
  
"Is it still around today, the house you grew up in?" she asked eagerly. How she would love to see where he grew up.  
  
"As a matter of fact, it is. If you wish I will take you there someday. It belongs to the Morgan family now I believe. Isaiah Morgan bought it from one of my stepsisters and it's been in their family for several decades.  
  
They started walking again, enjoying the silence between them. Gazing over at him, she tried to see him as a small child sitting on his mother's lap or helping his grandfather.  
  
"So tell me Mrs. Muir some gem of your childhood. We can call it an even exchange," his eyes were sparkling. "I imagine you were a pretty girl."  
  
"I guess, I never thought much about it. I had long hair that my mother kept in braids except on Sundays when she curled it. And that was a disaster, the curl would never stay in. We would get half way to church and I would see her eyes looking at me in the rearview mirror and she would shake her head. Not say a word, just that head shake. My hair would be as straight as it had been the night before," there was amusement in her voice at the memory.  
  
"Did you live in Philadelphia all you life?" it was his turn to ask the questions, and he intended to go as far as possible.  
  
"Um Yes, just different parts of it. I was born on the North side, my parents had a small brownstone. It was a nice place with big windows and a small back yard. We moved from there when I was seven, to a house in New Kensington. It was a marvelous house with a wide front porch and a picture window. I lived there until I got married. My parents still live there."  
  
"I am familiar with the North end of Philadelphia," he said. "Or at least what it was like a hundred years ago. I never had much occasion to venture into Kensington, I stayed mainly in the business areas.  
  
"It is an older neighborhood, not too many first time buyers move there. The houses are old and most families are established, but when my parents bought their house, it was quite the place for people starting out. The Muirs live in the Germantown area, where all the historic homes are. I believe their house is well over 200 years old."  
  
"The one they are so eager for you and the children to share with them?" his brows went up in question.  
  
"That's the one. I never knew what they needed with a house that big, with just the three of them, and really just the two of them for most of the time. Robert only lived there when he was home from school."  
  
"Dexter Academy?" his voice sounded harsh.  
  
"Good old Dexter Academy," she said with a slight sarcastic tone. "It is a good school, but I hate to think of Jonathan going there."  
  
"So," he changed the subject back to their previous conversation. "What did you do in this wonderful house with the wide front porch?"  
  
"I never went anywhere without paper and pencil so I could always catch the latest breaking story. My father said the Philadelphia Inquirer had nothing on me. He always called me Ace and he even got me one of those reporters hats."  
  
"So you intended to be a news reporter?" he was interested.  
  
"Yes, I guess. I knew I wanted to write and I thought that I would like to travel. So I figured I'd be a foreign correspondent. You know, travel and see the world and everything it had to offer."  
  
"We do have much in common," he pointed out. "That's exactly what I did. Did you have any pets?"  
  
"I had a turtle. His name was Boris, and I really liked him. He had a wonderful personality."  
  
"Did he run away, as is the habit of most turtles?"  
  
"No, he didn't" she was defensive. "He had turtle paradise in the back yard and he was quite content. He died of old age. I also had a cat--Mr Cat."  
  
"Mr. Cat -- now that is original" he teased.  
  
"I was very little, I thought it was just fine. Mr. Cat never really cared for my company though, he attached himself to my father and really became his cat. We had Mr. Cat until I was in high school."  
  
"I cannot really see you with a cat, you are more of a dog person."  
  
"I prefer dogs, they love you no matter what and they listen. Cats have minds of their own and they just don't listen at all. My cousin Grace had a dog, Bridey and Irish setter, I loved that dog."  
  
"Was she related to Uncle Arnold, by chance?"  
  
"No, she wasn't." Carolyn smiled in amusement. She is my mother's sister's daughter. Every summer I got to go visit Aunt Beth and Uncle Donald in Long Island. I loved the two weeks I got to spend there. I think the best part besides having Grace and Fletcher to play with, was that I got to go alone. It made me feel so free and independent" Look, there is quite a pretty shell, he pointed to the ground. They both bent down to pick it up at the same time, meeting each other eye to eye on the way back up.  
  
Carolyn swallowed hard and tried to fight the feeling of wanting to kiss him. His lips looked so firm and more than anything she wanted to touch her lips to them. Why was it so unfair? He cleared his throat and handed her the shell. Looking at him again, she could tell from the _expression on his face that he wanted to kiss her as well. Blast!  
  
"You did well in school?" he tried to think of something else to distract them.  
  
"Well, yes actually I did. I was one of the lucky ones, who made good grades and never had to study hard. My friends hated me. Did you go to school?"  
  
"Well, of course I went to school, what do you take me for an imbecile? But to tell the truth my father felt that the schoolmaster was an imbecile and he had me take lessons from the rector. I suppose I did learn more Latin and ancient history that way. Of course I was always interested in studying and going around the world as I did, give me an excellent education."  
  
"Education is the best teacher, they say." "Well, yes of course, but some experiences do teach more than others," and he gave a wicked grin.  
  
"I don't want to hear anything about that please."  
  
"'Tis a shame, I could tell you plenty."  
  
"I'm sure you could."  
  
"I'm sure you did not do too badly when it came to such things?" and he grinned again.  
  
"I did have my share of dates," she hoped it sounded meek. "I wasn't allowed to date really until I was 15, but I did a lot of group dating with my friends Susannah and Janie and whoever asked us out. I had my first serious boyfriend when I was 16, though, Gary. We, well he decided to break up when he went to college.  
  
"That was his loss," the Captain said quietly. The sun was becoming lower in the sky and they both knew they had to turn back. The children were already home and Martha would start to worry about Carolyn, thinking of course that she was alone.  
  
Without saying a word, they both turned back towards Gull Cottage. It had been a wonderful carefree day of getting to know one another a little better. Maybe it would happen again sometime, or maybe they would just make it happen. 


End file.
